


No Match For Such Craft

by Lamia of the Dark (VisceraNight)



Category: Sweeney Todd (2007), Sweeney Todd - Sondheim/Wheeler
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Angst, F/M, Family, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Romance, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:15:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 7,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25256764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VisceraNight/pseuds/Lamia%20of%20the%20Dark
Summary: Sweeney returns to London only to find that Lucy is happily married to Judge Turpin.
Relationships: Johanna Barker/Anthony Hope, Lucy Barker/Judge Turpin, Nellie Lovett/Sweeney Todd
Kudos: 16





	1. Sweeney Enters Amidst a Ruckus

**Author's Note:**

> This is the last Sweeney Todd fic I was working on back in 2010, when flame wars on fanfiction.net were so horrible that I dropped out of several fandoms entirely. I took this fic down from FFN but still had the drafts saved elsewhere, so for the sake of archiving everything I've written, I'm posting it here.
> 
> I don't remember where I was originally going with the plot, and I'm never going to finish writing the rest of it.

~ No Match For Such Craft ~

\- Chapter 1: Sweeney Enters Amidst a Ruckus -

"You may find me around Fleet Street, if you like," Sweeney said, and parted ways from Anthony.

He made his way through the streets until he reached a familiar shop. He reached out to push the door open but stopped short when he heard shouting from inside.

"I hate you!"

"Well, I hate you!" A brief pause in which there was the sound of something breaking. "I told you before, you ain't welcome here! Now get out and don't come back!"

Then the door flew open and a young woman shouldered past Sweeney and stormed off down the street, stopping only once to throw a black look over shoulder before disappearing down an alleyway.

Sweeney entered the shop and spotted the owner sitting at a booth with her head in her hands. It looked like she might be crying.

"Mrs. Lovett?" he called out softly.

"Sorry 'bout that, I'll be with you in just a minute," she mumbled, not looking up. Apparently she'd mistaken him for a customer.

A thin wail sounded from a room farther back in the building and Mrs. Lovett's head jerked up sharply.

"Oh, bloody hell!" she cursed. "That fight must have woken her up..."

She'd only just had time to stand up, though, when the shop's door was thrown open once again and a beautiful young woman with long blonde hair entered and rushed over to hug Mrs. Lovett.

"Don't worry about Cecelia, I'll take care of her," the young woman said.

For a minute Sweeney wondered who the hell Cecelia was, then he realized that must be the baby's name.

"Thank you, Johanna," Mrs. Lovett said, sounding relieved. She returned the girl's embrace briefly, then let her go as Johanna went off into the depths of the building to tend the crying infant.

Sweeney stared after her. So that was Johanna, his Johanna, all grown up. She looked so much like her mother...

"Johanna's a good girl," Mrs. Lovett said, sitting down at the booth again. "A proper lady, not like-" She cast a dark look out the window. "-her."

Sweeney slipped into the seat across the table from the baker.

She looked straight at him as she continued to rant. She seemed to recognize him, he thought, although she gave no outward indication of it. "I've had it with that girl, I have! Barely fifteen, and the little slut's already got one kid she ain't even tried to take care of, dumped the kid on me, and now she's gone and got herself knocked up again! Well, I ain't putting up with it anymore!"

When Mrs. Lovett stopped talking, the anger faded from her expression and she merely looked worn out. She sighed heavily and laid her head down on her arms which were folded on the table in front of her.

Sweeney thought back to the young woman who'd shouldered past him on her way out of the shop. Even though he'd only gotten a brief glimpse of those burning eyes, that deathly pale skin and those dark tangles of hair, she'd looked familiar to him somehow. Now he knew why. That girl was Mrs. Lovett's daughter.

"She have a name?" he asked quietly.

"Alexandra Barker," she mumbled without looking up.

"Barker?" he asked sharply.

She lifted her head and put her hand on his arm. Her expression was cloaked in sadness and regret as she told him, "Well, people think you're her father. Everyone believes you done what you was arrested for."

~oOo~


	2. Poor Mrs. Lovett

~ No Match For Such Craft ~

\- Chapter 2: Poor Mrs. Lovett -

But he hadn't done what he'd been accused of. Benjamin Barker had never laid a hand on Mrs. Lovett.

Which didn't explain how she'd ended up having a child...

"It was him, wasn't it?" Sweeney said in a low voice. "Judge Turpin?" He could tell by the way her fingers tightened around his arm that he was right. "That night, at the ball?" The night he'd been arrested.

She nodded, her eyes filling with tears.

He reached across the table and took her other hand in his.

"Tell me what happened. Everything, starting with that night."

She gave him a sad smile and a tear slipped down her cheek as she began the tale.

"Well, of course you remember the Judge invited us to that ball of his... I don't know why none of us were more suspicious about it back then..."

Albert Lovett was practically on his deathbed at that point, but he insisted that his pretty young wife should accompany their friends to the ball and enjoy herself for once. She worked so hard all the time. She deserved a break. He insisted that he was perfectly capable of looking after Johanna while everyone else was gone. So they placed Johanna's cradle next to Albert's chair for the evening, and the Barkers and young Mrs. Lovett made their way to the judge's house to attend the ball.

Benjamin and Lucy tried to include Mrs. Lovett in their socialization as much as possible, but the couple lost track of her while they were dancing. This, of course, was what Judge Turpin was waiting for.

Mrs. Lovett was standing on the edge of dance floor, looking a bit lost, perhaps waiting for some gentleman to ask her for a dance when Judge Turpin walked by and just happened to stumble... and spilled his glass of champagne all down the front of her dress.

"Oh, dear! I am terribly sorry!" the judge apologized, sounding as though he were shocked by his own clumsiness. She could tell he was going overboard with his acting but she thought it was just for show, because he liked to pretend that he wasn't a heartless bastard. She had no idea that he was planning anything. "I'm afraid your dress is ruined. Come, I have some clothes that you may borrow. They were my mother's..."

And, like a fool, she allowed him to lead her back to one of the bedrooms.

Mrs. Lovett swallowed back a sob and said, "Well, you know the story from there. He... had his way with me... then he locked me in and went to get you."

Yes, he knew the story from there. Judge Turpin had come and found Benjamin and told him in a hushed whisper that he'd seen Mrs. Lovett going off alone into the back of the house with Beadle Bamford. And, well, everyone knew what a pervert Beadle Bamford was, so Benjamin rushed off with the judge to go check on Mrs. Lovett, and rescue her if necessary.

Only, when they got to the room, Mrs. Lovett had been alone. She'd been laying on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. (He hadn't actually taken note of it at the time, but he recalled now that she'd been dressed in only her undergarments.) Benjamin hadn't noticed the judge slipping away while the barber knelt next to Mrs. Lovett, putting his hands on her shoulders, forcing her to face him, asking her to tell him what had happened.

And it was in that compromising position that he'd found himself when the judge returned, accompanied by Lucy and Beadle Bamford. Benjamin had been arrested immediately for a rape which he had not committed, and was then convicted of the crime and deported for it.

"What happened after I was sent away?" Sweeney asked, gently squeezing Mrs. Lovett's hand, hoping the contact could give her some small comfort for the torment he was making her relive.

"Everyone... everyone believed you were guilty."

There was something about the way she emphasized _everyone_...

"Even Lucy?" he asked, with dawning comprehension.

Mrs. Lovett bit her lip and nodded.

~oOo~


	3. Not Like His Memories

~ No Match For Such Craft ~

\- Chapter 3: Not Like His Memories -

And, as fate would have it, Lucy chose that moment to enter the shop, with Judge Turpin not far behind her. Lucy took one look at the scene (Sweeney holding Mrs. Lovett's hand, Mrs. Lovett with tears in her eyes) and exclaimed, "What is going on here?"

"Nothing!" Mrs. Lovett said, jerking her hands away from Sweeney's. Why did the dumb blonde always assume the worst? "He was asking about renting the room upstairs and I just got myself worked up over nothing, that's all." She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and stood up.

Sweeney remained seated. What if the judge recognized him? He'd be shipped straight back to prison again. He couldn't let that happen, not now that he was finally back.

"Oh, but, dear, do you even know this man?" Lucy asked worriedly. "You have to be careful..."

"He ain't like your husband!" Mrs. Lovett snapped.

The judge and Sweeney both immediately realized she meant Turpin, and for a tense moment they were both wondering the exact same thing: would Lucy also realize what exactly Mrs. Lovett was saying?

But, no.

"You don't have to worry about him anymore, dear. Ben is gone," Lucy said quietly.

Sweeney and Turpin's thought's were going in different directions once again. Turpin was relieved that Lucy had assumed Mrs. Lovett was talking about Benjamin Barker. Sweeney was in agony. Lucy, _his Lucy_ , actually believed that he would do something like that - that he _had_ done something like that! Did she really have so little faith in the man she loved that she would willingly believe he was capable of such an act?

"Come on, then. I'll show you around."

Mrs. Lovett's voice and her hand on his shoulder brought Sweeney out of his thoughts. He stood and followed her upstairs, to the room that used to be his. The room was bare except for the furniture. Everything that used to be his - or Lucy's, or Johanna's - was gone.

Mrs. Lovett was crying again.

She'd been holding back before, trying not to cry in front of everyone, but she was really crying now.

The Mrs. Lovett of his memories had always been a strong woman. He'd always thought of her as being able to handle anything that life threw at her. Sweeney couldn't stand seeing her like this.

"Come here," he said softly, opening his arms to her.

She went to him, and let him hold her. She buried her face against his chest and sobbed brokenly. With him here, holding her in his arms, she felt safe - a feeling she hadn't thought she'd ever experience again after that night at the judge's house fifteen years ago.

And so she let go, let out everything she'd been holding back, the rage and the sadness and every other feeling she'd repressed over the years.

And when her sobs finally quieted, she whispered hoarsely, "I'm sorry."

She slipped something out of her pocket and placed it in Sweeney's hand. It was one of his razors.

"It's the only thing of yours I was able to save," she explained, turning away from him. "Lucy sold the rest of them - she got rid of everything that used to be yours - but I took that one." She turned to look at him again. Her expression was pained as she continued. "I was going to use it... to slit my wrists. But I didn't want Albert to have to go through that, losing me that way, after everything. I told myself I'd just wait until my poor Albert had passed on. And then, when I found out that I was... expecting... I told myself I would just wait until the baby was born. And then I realized, every time I thought about slitting my wrists, I found another reason to live."

Sweeney could hardly believe what he was hearing. Mrs. Lovett had been planning to kill herself... But she was still alive, still here, still struggling through her miserable life even after everything she'd been through. The years had not been kind to her, but she was still the same strong woman he remembered. She just needed someone to remind her of that.

"But you kept this," he said, holding up the razor.

"Of course," she replied with a sad smile. "It reminded me of you. And I thought that if you ever did come back, you'd want to have at least one of them."

~oOo~


	4. The Shadows on Her Heart

~ No Match For Such Craft ~

\- Chapter 4: The Shadows on Her Heart -

"Thank you," Sweeney said awkwardly.

It was nice to have the razor back, of course, but he couldn't very well set up shop as a barber in the same room that Benjamin Barker had used. That would look just a little too suspicious. And it stung to know that Lucy had gotten rid of everything that ever reminded her of him. Which brought him to another point...

"How did she end up with him anyway?" he asked. "Didn't you ever tell her the truth?"

"Of course I tried to tell her," Mrs. Lovett answered. "But she wouldn't listen to me, told me I was just confused, told me the judge had saved me from you." She didn't sound angry, just sad.

She had that look on her face, like she was going to start crying again. Sweeney reached out and took her into his arms again. He half-expected her to resist, to not want to be touched by any man, but she leaned against him and let him hold her, taking comfort in the shelter of his arms.

Suddenly another thought came to him and he asked quietly, "What about Albert?"

"He believed me," she answered, pressing her face against his shoulder. "Not that there was anything he could have done about it. Oh, he felt so guilty, him being the one that convinced me to go to that party in the first place." She'd been planning to stay home and take care of Johanna while the Barkers went out that night. "He died just a few months after that, before I'd found out that I was pregnant. Thank heaven for small mercies, at least."

Sweeney felt her tense, but Mrs. Lovett forced her muscles to relax. Her hands clutched at the front of his shirt and she pressed herself closer to him as she continued to talk.

"Of course, when I did find out of course I didn't want to keep the baby, not with my husband gone and with how it'd happened."

She didn't say it out loud or in as many words, but Sweeney knew she meant she didn't want to have any child that Judge Turpin was the father of. Which still didn't explain how Alexandra had ended up being born.

"When I told Lucy that I didn't want to keep it, she told me that she would take the baby. I asked her how she was going to raise two children with no way to support herself. And that's when she told me that the judge had offered to marry her. There was nothing I could do to talk her out of it, she wouldn't hear a word against him."

Lucy. Ugh, was she really that ignorant? That _stupid_?

"They're the ones who raised Alexandra, not me," Mrs. Lovett continued. "When she was about twelve years old, I think, she overheard them talking and found out that I was her mother, and she came and asked me about it. I didn't know what to do. Lucy came after her and told her the 'truth' about her parents." That "truth" was Lucy's version of the truth, not the real truth. "She ran away from home, won't have anything to do with those two anymore. She's been living in the streets these past few years, selling herself, coming to me whenever she's in trouble. I can't- I can't take it anymore."

And then she was crying again. She clung to Sweeney as she sobbed, burying her face against his shoulder.

Sweeney held her close, rubbing her back, stroking her hair and whispering meaningless soothing words. He swore to himself that this time he would find a way to protect her.

~oOo~


	5. Lingering Feelings of Guilt

~ No Match For Such Craft ~

\- Chapter 5: Lingering Feelings of Guilt -

"I'm sorry," Sweeney whispered into her hair. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He kept repeating it.

Mrs. Lovett lifted her head and looked up at him, tears still streaming steadily from her eyes.

"What are you apologizing for, love?" she asked softly.

"That night... I didn't protect you... I should have been paying more attention..." Sweeney mumbled. He'd always felt guilty about that, about letting her out of his sight, about letting her get hurt. (Although he hadn't found out what exactly had happened to her until today, he'd always feared that what she'd suffered had been the very same thing that he'd been accused of.)

"You can't blame yourself for that," she said, laying her head against his shoulder again. "He set us up from the very beginning, you know that, right? He had everything planned out. And we were all fools. Fell right into his trap, we did. And he got what he wanted out of it."

Yes, Judge Turpin had gotten what he wanted. Benjamin Barker, out of the picture. Lucy for himself. And he'd destroyed so much in the process. Sweeney had been in prison, in a burning hell on earth, for fifteen years. But that was nothing compared to what Mrs. Lovett had been through. She'd had everything taken away from her. Sure, her business was still running and it was running more successfully than ever before. (People came to the shop because they felt sorry for her, which Sweeney would soon learn. He wouldn't be able to go to the market without hearing the whispers about poor Mrs. Lovett who was still haunted by the events of fifteen years ago... about poor Mrs. Lovett and that daughter of hers... about poor Mrs. Lovett and the fatherless grandchild she was forced to care for since that daughter of hers had practically abandoned the kid... And he would also find out that very few people ever spoke Mrs. Lovett's name without the word "poor" tacked onto the front of it.) But she'd lost so much. Her husband had spent his last months of life in emotional agony. The woman who'd once been her only friend was someone she could no longer trust. Mrs. Lovett's strength, her fearlessness, her smile were all buried somewhere deep within her, under the pain and betrayal and regret.

And Sweeney quickly realized that there was nothing he wanted more in this moment than to see her smile again.

"I won't let him hurt you anymore," he promised, hugging her tightly to him. "I won't let anyone hurt you. I'll protect you this time."

~oOo~


	6. The Mirror's Secret

~ No Match For Such Craft ~

\- Chapter 6: The Mirror's Secret -

Mrs. Lovett snuggled against Sweeney for a moment longer, then pulled away.

"Now, we can't be up here too long or they'll think something's going on," she said, sniffling, and shot a worried glance downward.

When they re-entered the pie shop, Turpin and Lucy were still there, waiting.

"I think I will take the room, after all," Sweeney said as if he were speaking to Mrs. Lovett, but he was really saying it for their audience's benefit, to divert suspicion as to what had been going on upstairs. He then turned and spoke directly to the judge. "I don't think we've been properly introduced. I am Sweeney Todd."

He held out his hand and Turpin shook it.

"Judge Turpin, and this is my wife, Lucy."

"Pleasure to meet you both, sir," Sweeney said politely.

"And what, may I ask, is your profession, Mr. Todd?" the judge inquired.

"Jack of all trades, master of none," Sweeney replied smoothly. He couldn't very well say he was a barber, even though Turpin and Lucy had both failed to recognize him as of yet. He didn't see how, though. Mrs. Lovett had recognized him easily enough.

"Right, well, we really must be going now," Turpin said. He didn't like the way Mrs. Lovett was glaring at him.

Lucy seemed reluctant to leave, though, and her husband said quietly to her, "He's nothing to worry about, and besides, Mrs. Lovett can take care of herself."

Sweeney heard that remark, though, and was offended. So, the judge thought he was nothing to worry about, huh? Well, it was true that he was no threat in regards to Mrs. Lovett. Sweeney also had doubts as to how well Mrs. Lovett could take of herself...

The couple departed and an awkward silence fell.

"I'm going to go get myself moved in," Sweeney said. But he hesitated, seeming to be silently asking if she would be alright on her own.

"Alright, dear," Mrs. Lovett replied absently as she started to go about her tasks in the shop. "I'll have dinner ready in 'bout an hour so come back down when you're finished, if you're hungry then."

She didn't say it in as many words, but he knew that she was comforted by his presence there, that she felt safer with him around. Well, if she wanted him there then he would be there. It was as simple as that. He'd promised to protect her and that meant keeping her safe from her fears as much as from actual threats.

Mrs. Lovett expected Sweeney to be up there for an hour at least, so she was surprised to see him back in the shop a scant few minutes later.

"Why is there a new mirror?" he asked bluntly. The old one had been cracked, and he'd kept it because he'd never been able to afford to replace it. Mrs. Lovett shouldn't have been able to afford it either, and he couldn't figure why she would have bothered to replace it while the room wasn't being used.

"It... broke," she answered evasively, turning away from him to fetch something down from a shelf.

She didn't realize until too late that this would be a mistake. She could feel Sweeney staring at her shoulders and the few inches of the exposed skin on her back that showed above her dress. More specifically, he was staring at the light tracery of scars etched across that area of skin. And he could very well guess that they continued down the entire length of her back.

She turned to face Sweeney.

"I was up there alone," she explained quietly, without him asking. "I was going to put the razor back, but she'd already gotten rid of the rest of them." It must have happened after she'd discovered she was pregnant, then, he figured, after she decided she wasn't going to try to commit suicide anymore. "I was just standing there when he came in, and asked me if it was true that I was pregnant." The "he" she spoke of must be Judge Turpin. Sweeney noticed that she didn't like to say his name. "I told him I wasn't going to keep it and... he... got angry..."

He'd slammed her into the broken mirror which shattered completely, the shards slicing through her dress and cutting into her flesh... He'd taken her to the doctor, passed it off as a clumsy accident. The doctor knew better than to ask or to argue, and simply did his job. Some of the cuts were deep, some were wide. Some would heal cleanly. Most would scar. The judge had replaced the broken mirror with a new one.

~oOo~


	7. They'll Think The Worst of Us

~ No Match For Such Craft ~

\- Chapter 7: They'll Think the Worst of Us -

A few days passed and Sweeney still hadn't had any brilliant ideas as to what he was going to do for work. He'd never trained at anything except barbering.

And so it was that he spent most of his time hanging around the pie shop, taking care of the baby while Mrs. Lovett worked. (That was one thing he did know how to do, after all.)

But after almost a week of this, Mrs. Lovett was forced to confront him about his lack of employment.

"Now, Mr. Todd," she said, laying her hand on his arm. "You've got to find yourself proper work sometime, and the sooner the better. I can't let you stay here if you don't at least look like you're making enough money to be able to pay the rent. If things go on like this, people will think the worst of us..."

If she let him stay there with him not working, not able to pay any rent, people would assume that the two of them were lovers. They would assume that he was a lazy bum letting his woman support him, and the two of them not even married... No, he couldn't let rumors like that get started.

"I'll pick up some work at the docks in the evening. They could always use more hands than they've got down there."

He didn't want to leave her alone in the evenings, but he was even more worried about leaving her alone during the daytime. People instinctively feared the night, but Sweeney knew that terrible things happened just as often and as easily during the day. No, even more easily, because at least people were _expecting_ things to take a dangerous turn during the nighttime.

"I'll pay the rent if you want me to," he added.

"That's not necessary, dear. I'm just happy to have you home."

She went to kiss him on the cheek, but at that exact moment he turned his head toward her and her lips brushed his.

His first thought was to apologize but before he had a chance to say anything, she quickly kissed his cheek - as had been her initial intention - and turned away from him, blushing.

"Sorry," she said nervously. "I didn't mean... for that to...happen..."

"It was my fault," he said. "I'm the one who should apologize."

She'd kissed him on the cheek plenty of times before, but never on the mouth. They didn't have that kind of relationship. (Or rather, they weren't quite up to that point in their relationship yet. But it was something that he would only let happen if she wanted it to happen. She'd been hurt enough already by other men...)

She turned to face him again.

"No, it wasn't," she said firmly. "It was accident, is all. No reason for you to blame yourself."

But her words alone could not erase the unease he felt over what had just occurred, nor wipe the guilty expression off his face.

"It's alright," she said, stepping closer to him. She placed her hands on his shoulders and pressed her lips to his in a light, sweet kiss. "See, no harm done," she said, smiling at him softly.

Sweeney didn't know what to say. So he simply wrapped his arms around her and held her close.

He'd gotten a brief glimpse of that smile he'd longed to see, but he'd provided her with only a single fleeting moment of happiness. He knew she could never be the way she was before, but he wanted her to be happy again. For real. Forever.

~oOo~


	8. I'm Madly in Anger With You

~ No Match For Such Craft ~

\- Chapter 8: I'm Madly In Anger With You -

Sweeney began working at the docks in the evenings. He got home late at night and spent his mornings sleeping. He spent his afternoons in his room, babysitting Cecelia so Mrs. Lovett could go about her business without worrying about looking after the baby. He didn't go down to the pie shop because Mrs. Lovett had told him off for hanging around. She was worried about rumors getting started and people figuring out Sweeney's true identity.

Johanna had been the one helping Mrs. Lovett take care of Cecelia before Sweeney arrived on the scene, and she often stopped by in the afternoons to see the baby even though her presence wasn't really necessary anymore. Although he couldn't tell her the truth of his identity, Sweeney was glad of this opportunity to get to know his daughter.

A few weeks passed in this manner before Mrs. Lovett confronted Sweeney about his odd behavior. Or, more accurately, his lack thereof.

"Why haven't you done anything yet?" she asked him.

"I've done things," he answered vaguely. He wasn't really sure what she meant by the question.

"No, you haven't," she stated bluntly. "It's been weeks since you got here. You've had plenty of time to settle in. So. Why haven't you done anything yet?" Her irritated expression gave way to one of concern. "Are you having trouble coming up with a plan?"

"A plan for what?" Sweeney asked, nonplussed. What the hell was she talking about?

"Your revenge against Judge Turpin!" she snapped. "Ain't that what you came back here for in the first place?"

He was surprised at her anger.

"I haven't..." He trailed off. He couldn't very well tell her he hadn't been thinking about it. He'd managed to reclaim bits of his old life. He was getting to know the daughter whose life he'd missed out on so much of. He was... not happy, exactly, but not miserable either.

"You haven't been able to get Lucy alone to tell her who you are?" Mrs. Lovett filled in for him. "I could help you with that."

"I'm not going to tell her who I am!" Sweeney yelped. "Do you want me to get thrown back in prison?"

Mrs. Lovett came closer and laid her hand on his arm, frowning.

"Don't you want her to know that you were innocent, that you came back for her?" she asked softly. Of course, she didn't actually want him to get back together with Lucy. And she didn't think it was likely to happen even if Lucy did find out who he was. But she couldn't understand why he wasn't trying.

"She should have already known I was innocent," Sweeney answered bitterly. "How could she believe that I could do such a thing, that I would, that I _did_ do such a thing?" His expression turned hard. "No. No, I don't want her back. He can have her. Those two deserve each other."

"And what about me and you?"

The question startled him.

"What?" he said stupidly.

She narrowed her eyes at him and hissed, "Do we deserve the things he did to us?"

Now he understood the reason for her anger. She hadn't been able to act against the judge on her own with any chance of success, but now that Sweeney was here she'd been counting on him to take revenge on Turpin. Only, Sweeney hadn't done anything of the sort.

She'd given him the razor and a place to stay and all the information he needed. And in return he had given her nothing.

He realized he was fooling himself if he thought he was protecting her. He provided only a false sense of security at best.

He didn't know what to do.

"Time, Mrs. Lovett. I need more time," he pleaded, stalling. "It would be easy enough to kill him, but I don't want to just kill him. I want him to suffer."

~oOo~


	9. The Clear and Present Truth

~ No Match For Such Craft ~

\- Chapter 9: The Clear and Present Truth -

A revenge plan came to Sweeney soon enough. That isn't to say he thought of it himself. It, quite literally, came to him one evening.

He was about to leave to go down to the docks for the evening when he noticed that Alexandra was hanging around outside the shop.

"What are you doing here?" he asked coldly. Sweeney knew the girl's presence always upset Mrs. Lovett.

Alexandra regarded him carefully for a moment before saying, almost shyly, "I have something for you."

"For me?" Sweeney asked in surprise. He eyed her suspiciously. "What is it?"

"Oh, just... something," Alexandra replied evasively. She handed him a small cloth sack, which he accepted reluctantly.

Inside were six silver razors. His razors, the brothers of the one he had in his pocket.

"They are yours, aren't they? Benjamin Barker?"

Sweeney looked up from the razors at Alexandra's grinning face. He could see that she knew she had correctly guessed his identity.

"How did you get these? How did you know?" Sweeney asked, his voice colored with shock.

"They weren't hard to find... and it wasn't hard to figure out," Alexandra replied, her expression becoming serious. "Just from things I've heard... I don't think he realizes that everyone knows. Of course they can't say anything. But after the incident with the mirror, it became rather obvious..."

Was she... talking about the judge? And everyone knew that... what? That Turpin was actually Alexandra's real father? But no one could say anything about it, least of all to Turpin himself, for fear of being falsely accused of a crime and shipped off to prison - or worse?

"I've been working on a plan to expose his lies," Alexandra continued, and Sweeney tuned back in to what she was saying. "All you have to do is be patient, and keep my mother and Cecelia safe from him until I do." She paused, then added, "And don't talk to her about me!"

And she disappeared into the alleyway.

Sweeney continued on his way down to the docks, his mind swirling with questions.

The girl was smarter than anyone gave her credit for, it appeared. She seemed bitter and resentful toward the judge over the events that had led to her birth. Alexandra didn't want Mrs. Lovett to know what she was up to, but Sweeney didn't know why. He was sure that Mrs. Lovett would approve of her daughter's plan... not that he had any details of what that plan was.

And how was he going to explain how he got his razors back when he wasn't supposed to say anything about Alexandra to Mrs. Lovett?

~oOo~


	10. Just Be Patient a Little Longer

~ No Match For Such Craft ~

\- Chapter 10: Just Be Patient A Little Longer-

It was a few weeks later when Mrs. Lovett broached the topic to him again.

"Now, I don't mean to nag," she began. "But have you been thinking at all about what you're going to do?"

A tense silence stretched between them for a moment.

He hadn't been thinking about it, really. Not at all. But he couldn't tell her that or she'd just get angry again. There was really only one thing he could do in a situation like this.

"I got these back," Sweeney said, finally. And he laid the razors out for her to see.

"Oh! You do have a plan, after all!" Mrs. Lovett squealed excitedly and threw her arms around him.

His arms closed around her automatically. It felt odd to be holding her when she wasn't crying and grief-stricken, in need of comfort. But it didn't feel half bad to be holding her at a moment like this, either.

He didn't really have a plan, but one was in motion already. He couldn't tell her about it because he didn't properly know what it involved. And he couldn't explain to her how he'd gotten his razors back, either.

But it looked like she wasn't going to ask him, anyway. She was just happy to know that they would be getting revenge on the judge at last...

"Just be patient a little longer," he said quietly.

And then the moment was broken by a piercing wail, and Sweeney hurried to scoop up Cecelia from the crib.

"Or... did you... want to...?" he asked awkwardly.

But he wasn't awkward at all in the way that he cradled the baby against his chest. In fact, he looked very much like he had with his own child, so very many years ago.

And the three of them were almost like a real family now, almost...

But he wasn't hers, and she wasn't his, and the baby most certainly wasn't theirs. And there could never be a "his family" that did not include Johanna. And there could never be a "her family" that did not include Alexandra, no matter how much she wished her daughter could be excluded from it.

"No, love," Mrs. Lovett answered. "I've got a shop to run and everything, you know. I only meant to just stop in for a minute."

"At least hold her for a little bit before you go. She's only going to fuss more once you've gone," Sweeney insisted.

"How can you tell?" she asked curiously. Cecelia was completely quiet now.

"She only stopped crying once she heard your voice."

Mrs. Lovett felt something tug at her heart.

She didn't see Sweeney's smile as she reached out to take the baby from him.

~oOo~


	11. Do You Think She Missed Me?

~ No Match For Such Craft ~

\- Chapter 11: Do You Think She Missed Me? -

Returning from the docks late one night, Sweeney was surprised to see a light in the downstairs window. He entered through the pie shop instead of the barbershop (he had keys for both), and found Mrs. Lovett in the parlor where she was folding laundry one-handed. One-handed, because she was holding Cecelia in her other arm.

"What are you doing up at this time of night?" Sweeney asked, concerned.

She'd heard him come in and wasn't startled by his presence.

"It's Cecelia, she keeps fussing... I can't get her back to sleep for nothin'." She saw the way he was looking at her, and realized he thought it was very odd of her to be doing laundry at this time of night. "Well, I figured I might as well get something useful done if I'm going to be up anyway..." she said sheepishly.

"Why don't you let me take her?" Sweeney offered, holding out his arms to take the child. "Go on back to sleep, I don't mind watching her."

"Thank you, Mr. T, don't know what I'd do without you," Mrs. Lovett said tiredly, kissing him on the cheek as she handed Cecelia over to him.

And the child snuggled against Sweeney and was asleep before Mrs. Lovett could leave the room.

"How... did you...?"

"I didn't really do anything," Sweeney said, sounding just as mystified as Mrs. Lovett. Then a thought struck him. "Do you think she missed me?"

~oOo~


	12. A Fated Meeting, or Something Like That

~ No Match For Such Craft ~

\- Chapter 12: A Fated Meeting, or Something Like That -

"Fleet Street, Fleet Street," Anthony mumbled to himself, barely glancing up from his maps as he shuffled along the road. "I just know it's got to be around here somewhere."

"Excuse me, sir," a light, sweet, cultured voice interrupted his mumblings.

Anthony's head snapped up and he found himself looking at the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. She was a young woman, about his own age or a little younger, with long golden blonde hair.

"I couldn't help overhearing what you were saying," Johanna continued, and Anthony's cheeks flooded with color as he realized she'd heard him talking to himself. "But Fleet Street is that way." She pointed in a different direction than the one he'd been taking.

Anthony blushed even harder as he said, "It's embarrassing for a sailor to lose his bearings like this."

"Would you like me to show you the way?" Johanna asked kindly, taking pity on the handsome stranger.

"That would be wonderful!" Anthony replied, excited at the prospect of spending more time with this lovely young lady. "Only if you don't mind, though..." he added sheepishly, embarrassed by his own enthusiasm.

"It is no bother to me. I was on my way there anyway," Johanna explained patiently, smiling.

"Oh. Well, then. Shall we be on our way?"

When they entered the pie shop, they were greeted by Mrs. Lovett.

"Oh, Johanna, dear, I wasn't expecting you this early..." Mrs. Lovett trailed off when she saw that Johanna was with a young man she didn't recognize. "And who might this be?"

"His name is Anthony Hope," Johanna introduced her companion. "I found him wandering around lost," she explained, a hint of amusement coloring her voice. "He says he is a friend of Mr. Todd's."

"Are you now?" Mrs. Lovett asked the sailor, sounding surprised. She wasn't aware that Sweeney had any friends, unless she was counting herself as one.

"Well, yes," Anthony answered, and recounted the tale of how he'd saved Sweeney from drowning at sea.

After hearing the story, Mrs. Lovett found herself feeling relieved that the boy was a little thick because in his naivete he hadn't realized that the person he'd saved from drowning at sea was actually an escaped convict...

"Mr. Todd's upstairs. He rents the room up there," she informed the sailor. "There's stairs from the outside, so you don't have to come through my shop every time you want to visit him... although I'm not saying it wouldn't be nice of you to stop in and say hello to me once in a while."

After Anthony had dashed off to go see Sweeney, Mrs. Lovett turned to Johanna and looked the girl over with a critical eye.

"Taken a fancy to the lad, now, haven't you?"

A delicate blush crept over Johanna's pale cheeks.

"Is it obvious?" she asked, clearly embarrassed.

"Not to him, I wouldn't think," Mrs. Lovett replied, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. Her eyes flicked toward the stairs that led to Sweeney's room and her smile died. "I almost forgot about Cecelia, I'd better go get her..."

How would Sweeney explain the child to Anthony?

~oOo~


	13. Awkwardness in the Attic Apartment

~ No Match For Such Craft ~

\- Chapter 13: Awkwardness in the Attic Apartment -

Mrs. Lovett went up the inside stairs, but still didn't manage to beat Anthony to Sweeney's room. The sailor had had quite a head start, after all...

Cecelia was sleeping peacefully in the old crib that had once been Johanna's. (Before that, it had belonged to the Lovetts, but since they'd never had a child of their own, they'd loaned it to the Barkers when Lucy found out she was pregnant - which is why the crib was still in the barbershop and not among the items Lucy had sold.)

Anthony was babbling excitedly to Sweeney about something, and apparently wasn't even aware of the baby's presence.

Mrs. Lovett lifted the child into her arms carefully so as not to wake her.

"Thank you for watching her for me, Mr. Todd," she said, more for Anthony's benefit than anything. "I'll just take her downstairs now, so you two can enjoy your visit."

"No, it's alright," Sweeney protested. "I don't mind, really, and she's just sleeping..." Truth be told, he enjoyed looking after the child. And he was a little wary of leaving Cecelia alone with Mrs. Lovett, based on her interactions with Alexandra. Although she didn't seem nearly as hostile toward her granddaughter as she did toward Alexandra, Sweeney couldn't help noticing that she treated the child with indifference rather than affection - as if taking care of her was a nuisance or a bothersome task that she only did out of a sense of duty.

He started to reach out to take the child from her, but Mrs. Lovett slapped his hand away.

"Don't be ridiculous!" she said sternly. Then, softer, "Besides, Johanna's downstairs and she wanted to see her." Well, that was a lie... or at the very least, a guess. "Cecelia hasn't seen Johanna very often lately, and she probably misses her too... Well, I'll be going now..."

And with that, she left. Leaving Sweeney to explain to Anthony what all of that had been about.

And, sure enough-

"Mr. Todd...?" Anthony questioned uncertainly.

"Mrs. Lovett's grandchild," Sweeney explained. "I picked up work down at the docks in the evening, babysit for her during the day while she runs her shop."

"It seems you've settled in quite well, then," Anthony observed. The sailor could not say as much for himself, though.

"So it would seem," Sweeney replied vaguely. "Now, back to what you were saying before-"

And he tuned out as Anthony began to ramble incoherently again about... whatever he'd been talking about before Mrs. Lovett interrupted.

~oOo~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's as much as was ever written.


End file.
